


infatuation

by dazelater



Series: minishaw oneshots | vol 1 [6]
Category: The Ultimate Sidemen
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28621755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazelater/pseuds/dazelater
Summary: across a summer, where simon's crush on harry is killing him
Relationships: Harry Lewis/Simon Minter
Series: minishaw oneshots | vol 1 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052366
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> not posting on ao3 much, more on my wattpad @dazelater

Harry was sat on the side of the pool with his legs dangled in, swim shorts and no shirt, wet skin glistening in the beaming sun, hair spiking up in all directions like a wet puppy. He hummed a delicate tune to himself and Simon listened.

He hated how perfect he looked. How innocent, his legs kicking back and forth in the water, leant back to bask in the summer heat. How oblivious, to Simon's constant longing, dangerous thoughts imagining Harry glistened with sweat and messy hair under Simon's towering body after he'd worked him into a state of bliss.

"What are you staring at, Minter," the boy mumbled, still facing up at the sky, and Simon's eyes widened.

"Fuck off," he responded sharply, pulling up his phone to feign not caring. He fake scrolled, phone not even unlocked. This reaction had become automatic, at this point.

After a second Harry sat up, pushed his sunnies to the top of his head. Simon looked. Harry had a hurt expression and suddenly Simon wanted to jump in the pool and stay under. Or run over there and apologize ten times, or just jump on him like the old days when they'd piss about and have fun, before Simon had fucked it up.

Harry got up, then paused to look down at the taller boy. "What's your fucking problem?" he asked, a weak bitter tone shielding genuine upset.

And he was gone, with the click of the sliding door. Simon groaned, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his temples.

The problem was that he couldn't look at him for more than five seconds without his head feeling fuzzy and blood rushing to his face.

He couldn't maintain eye contact with the boy though his gaze was drawn to him like magnets. Especially when he had that white smile that made his eyes twinkle.

The one that used to always light up Harry's face when he was around Simon. Simon, more than anyone else. It was when Harry started appearing around him all the time, always standing next to him, sitting next to him, looking him dead in the eyes with that dazzling smile, when it started to make Simon melt. Started to make him daydream about the boy while he's mid ramble about something stupid, before he'd realize there's four cameras on him and Tobi's giving him a weird side-eye.

So he'd backed away, distanced himself before he broke his own heart by becoming so infatuated with this boy that effortlessly drove him crazy, but it was only in his head, he was the only one to blame. It wasn't Harry's fault. Nothing bad in this world could ever be his fault, he thought.

"Do you have to be a cunt to him, all the time?"

Simon looked across to Josh, relaxed on the sun lounger.

Of course he did. He couldn't act normal around the boy. Not now. He was too obvious, the cameras would see, the viewers would pick it up. He was buried in guilt, for whatever reason.

"I wish I didn't have to," he muttered under his breath, and turned away. He watched Harry rugby tackle Ethan through the large glass doors of the living room, remembered last year when that would be them. When Harry would sit on Simon's lap like it was nothing, cuddle into him, hold his hand and pull him through the street. But now, Harry caught his glance from inside, and his wide grin dropped quicker than Simon's stomach.

"The fuck does that mean. You in love with him or something?" Josh chuckled, teasingly.

He glared at him. "Fuck off, Josh." And then laughed, for good measure. "Aight, I gotta do some work."

Simon grabbed his stuff and started heading inside.

"Weird that when you say it to me it's clearly a joke. When you say it to Harry, it's like you're actually trying to upset the kid."

Simon scoffed and left him out there. But went straight to his room to face-plant into the bed, Josh's words on repeat in his mind, guilt accumulating in his stomach to the point where it physically hurt.


	2. two

Most of their days consisted of this. Hot summer evenings when the videos were filmed and the work was done, and they could relax and bake in the heat; drinking until the sun had crept away and the stars came out. It would've been a divine summer in Simon's books—if it wasn't for the boy driving his brain to absolute insanity without a shred of his own realization.

He had never before hated the sun, until now, for bringing out Harry's vibrant blue eyes, the blonde tones in his silky hair, his deliciously tanned skin, and worst of all, for making him practically naked half the time. Simon would be entranced every time the ethereal creature would pad past him in only fluorescent swim shorts, yawning in the summer haze.

He made a habit of keeping his black sunnies close by, so he could steal glances and not give himself away. Or he'd peer out the upstairs window to ensure Harry wasn't alone in the garden before stepping foot outside. They were unconscious habits slowly becoming routines, to avoid it all as much as he could—letting it build up inside, instead, while he tried divert attention elsewhere.

So naturally, Simon was scared shitless when he thought he was in the clear, headed outside to chill on a lounge chair, settled down, and heard a strange groan from across the garden.

He whipped around, eyes widening at the sight of a sunbathing Harry lying in the center of the plush grass on a strawberry towel in his red swimming shorts. Just out of sight from the upstairs window. Another pained moan escaped his lips, brows creasing together, and Simon noticed most of his skin was a positive shade of pink, looking sore, burning.

Simon rolled his eyes. Ignoring every inch of his body screaming at him not to, he couldn't help himself, and returned inside. He grabbed a bottle of suncream from the kitchen drawer and then came back out, walking over to the boy, silently, and dropping it onto the towel by his face.

Harry's eyes fluttered open, impossibly blue looking up at him, using an arm to shield the sun.

"You're burning. Use it," Simon spoke flatly, and then went back to lie down. He closed his eyes and tried to block out everything around him. Tried to ignore the picture of Harry's glowing face, cast in the direct sunlight, looking up at him. He mentally planned through the schedule for next week.

And it was going well, until a hesitant voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"Simon? You awake?"

He opened an eye and looked over. Harry was sat up to face him with a hand going through his hair.

Simon felt his jaw tighten, uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"Can you, uh— it's just 'cause it hurts, so—can you get my back?" He asked, motioning to the lotion bottle.

 _Fuck_ , was all Simon could think.

"I guess," he mumbled, after a second of being frozen, and went over to sit behind the boy who crossed his legs, handing him the bottle.

"Thank you," Harry chirped, and sat up straight for him.

Simon decided he'd make it quick. He didn't know if he could handle Harry's ass right in front of his crotch for much longer. He squirted cream onto his hands and after a quick exhale, began palming it into Harry's back, gently, noticing the redness, and carefully working it in. He felt his face heat up, fingers tingling against the touch, noticing his lean muscles, his tanned and smooth skin, and so soft, listening to his quiet relaxed breaths, and Simon couldn't think straight, or coherently, just letting his hands do the work and trying not to hyperventilate.

He worked it further in, across his broad shoulders, down to his waist, and his lower back, and then slowly up his spine and in-between his tanned shoulder blades, causing a moan to slip from Harry's mouth. Simon's face was red in a second, and his hands were frozen.

He whipped his hands away and clicked the bottle shut.

"There."

Too much. Harry was too intoxicating, too overwhelming, acting on all of his senses, fogging his brain. He cleared his throat and rose to his feet.

"It looks sore, Harry. Stop forgetting suncream."

He watched him collapse onto the towel before him with a blissful sigh.

"Cheers Si."

Simon couldn't help but smile at the sound of his nickname from the younger boy. It had been so long, since he'd hear him say it.

He cleared his throat, again. "And maybe get out of the sun," he added, sarcastically, and walked off. He picked up his phone and went inside, steadying his breath when he was safely out of distance. His hands were still tingling furiously, and he hated himself for it.


End file.
